


Eden

by Scotland_Axel (orphan_account)



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Steve Rogers, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Rimming, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 06:47:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8568343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Scotland_Axel
Summary: It’s as if there’s an Eden in his chest, alive and thriving, a place where it never rains and the birds are always chirping a melody.Steve smiles while biting his lower lip — what Sam likes to call his sex grin — and shoves at his towel so it pools at his feet.He takes his lips tenderly, and it reminds them both of the first time Steve did this, when he was so nervous his hands were shaking and his lips trembled, every move one of unsurety.





	

Steve can’t remember a single time in his life he had felt this happy. Though happy isn’t really the right word for it — content is more close to home if he’s judging his heart right. It’s as if there’s an Eden in his chest, alive and thriving, a place where it never rains and the birds are always chirping a melody. He doesn’t know if he’s ever had this feeling before, of consummate peace somehow  _ within  _ him, not a place he’s just lucky to be in, or the people he’s around. All he can think is that he’s a different person with Sam —  _ everything’s _ different with Sam. Everything’s better with Sam, so better he can’t believe he ever lived without the man. 

Steve always thought he had a big heart but Sam makes it seem minuscule. He’s just an unbelievably loving person and Steve still can’t figure out how caring that much about everyone doesn’t slow him down, doesn’t hurt him beyond repair. Always smiling, always warm, always open, always  _ there _ with eyes that say he’ll listen to anything you have to say no matter how stupid or ridiculous you may think it is. The most simple way to put it is Steve may be Captain America, the guy on the t-shirts, leading the Avengers and saving the world, but when he puts down his shield Sam is the man who takes care of him, leads him to that quiet place where twisted thoughts and biting guilt can’t evade. 

The bathroom door creaks open and Steve sits up in their bed, eagerly watching as the object of his affections walks out clad and glorious in a towel. His mouth is covered in toothpaste foam, the toothbrush sticking out while one hand is preoccupied on the knob and the other holding his towel. The former pararescue simply winks back at his boyfriend, at this point unfazed by Steve’s complete look of awe.

Sam steps back to spit and says from within the bathroom and amidst running water, “Every night, Rogers, you stare at me like I’m some unicorn shooting rainbows out of my butt. That ever gone change? I mean, it’s been two years, a brother’s gotta ask.”

He emerges from the bathroom again, no toothpaste in sight, his full lips pulled into a smirk Steve loves to look at. Sam comes to the side of the bed and Steve can’t stop himself from reaching out and touching him in some way, not that he’d ever try to restrain himself. The whole point of dating is to touch what no one else can — as much as he wants.

Steve squeezes his hips and pulls him closer, his thumbs running appraisingly over Sam’s beautiful skin.

“I know how long it’s been, Sam.” He leans forward to press a kiss to his navel, “Every day you don’t come to your senses is a win for me.”

Muscles tighten beneath his hand when Sam laughs and Steve hums happily at the hand that combs through his bedhead.

“Wow. You say that like you’re someone other than Captain America.” He gasps, “Or even more absurd, like someone other than Steve Rogers.”

Said man stills completely, never used to or prepared when Sam says something like that. Like he honestly thinks Steve Rogers is better than Captain America. Which is how it should be — as his boyfriend yet it’s still unbelievably surreal to him. To hear the words he secretly craves above all else.

“You alright down there?” Sam asks, his fingers scratching comfortingly against his scalp.

Steve swallows and looks up at him before replying.

“Yeah. I’m alright. I just...it still shocks me when you say that, that’s all.”

“It shouldn’t, Steve. We love each other,  _ all _ of each other and everything else is just a part. We’re the people.”

“I know, I know. And God, you sound so sexy when you say that, so much smarter than me even though I could technically be your grandfather.”

Sam grimaces, “If this is going where I think it’s going don’t say you’re my grandpa, Steve, kind of killing what I’ve got going on here.”

“Gerontophilia.” Steve says, eagerly supplying one of the many paraphilias he knows all thanks to a month of self-taught modern sex ed. God, had those thirty days really tested Sam’s patience. When Sam tells him some of the stuff he’d blabbed about he honestly can’t believe they’re still together (eproctophilia, dendrophilia, maschalagnia: look ‘em up).

Sam rolls his eyes and fakes to walk away, both of them laughing easily together. 

“Sorry, sorry. Scratch that — what I meant was ‘I love you and want you to fuck me.’ Please.”

“Aw, you  _ do  _ know how to get me goin’.”

Steve smiles while biting his lower lip — what Sam likes to call his sex grin — and shoves at his towel so it pools at his feet. Steve then falls back onto their bed, pulling Sam on top of him in one easy move. His blue eyes are bright and eager, a whole different kind of alert the team never gets to see. Steve works his boxers down his hips and legs, flinging them somewhere toward the corner of the room, obviously not caring where they land. He laughs at the somewhat incredulous face Sam’s giving him before drawing the man into a kiss.

He takes his lips tenderly, and it reminds them both of the first time Steve did this, when he was so nervous his hands were shaking and his lips trembled, every move one of unsurety. His hands come up to cup Sam’s jaw and like a switch, his love surges forward and presses him hard into the pillows, the kiss suddenly bruising in its intensity. Sam’s hand lights a path of fire as it trails up Steve’s thigh, pulling it over his waist so he falls against him. A groan leaves Steve’s lips as their arousals meet and he holds Sam even closer, peppering kisses wherever he can reach. 

“So what mood are we in for, huh, Grant?” Sam whispers.

Steve sucks in a breath, his heartbeat seemingly slowing as a sense of calm contentment overtakes him. Sam is the only one to call him Grant since his mother and the first time he did it Steve was surprised by how much he liked it, how calming it was. He’s not even sure if anyone else on the team knows his middle name. It wouldn’t matter if they did because Steve likes it best when it’s coming from Sam, when it’s a testament that no one knows him better*. He tilts his chin up tentatively, connecting their lips for only a moment before lying back down, letting Sam’s full weight hold him there.

“Slow. I want it slow...almost lazy.” He says.

“Gentle, huh? Affectionate.”

A blush blooms across his cheeks and down his chest, but Steve nods reluctantly to which Sam just gives him an easy smile.

“Ain’t nothing wrong with a little lovin’ — that’s what my ma always said.”

“Okay, if I can’t talk about me being old then you definitely can’t talk about your ma.”

“Agreed. Now let’s get to the fun stuff, huh? Nice and slow.”

Steve laughs nervously as Sam begins kissing and licking his way down the center of his chest, suddenly feeling as self conscious as he would’ve before the serum. He wonders whether that feeling will ever go away and whether it’s a good or bad thing. And that’s all the wondering Steve gets to have before he lets out a shuddering breath, Sam’s lips pressing a gentle and somewhat adoring kiss to his leaking crown. 

Warm brown eyes twinkle up at him and Sam grins. “Hey, Grant. Stay with me, baby.” 

Steve swallows, and nods almost doggedly, unable to speak against the force those words have on him. He instead lies back and lets Sam do as he pleases. 

Burning hands close around his hips and teasing licks soon follow, teeth pinching the skin of his balls and a numbing pleasure going up his spine. His hips twitch upwards but Steve clenches his fists and fights his own desire. Fingers quickly uncurl them however, Steve gasping once two of his digits are enveloped in the warmth of Sam’s mouth, his pulse pounding against the roof of his mouth. He moans deep in his throat, throwing his free arm over his eyes. 

“Can you just  _ please _ touch me?” He pleads, not wanting to say what he’s trying to say.

“Steve. I am literally sucking your fingers right now. Touch you  _ where?” _

He can only guess his sudden exasperation is why he’s not referred to as Grant.

“Sam.” He whines, his arm not doing a thing to hide his blush, “Don’t make me say it,  _ please _ . Just-” He drops his arm and looks at him hopelessly before darting his eyes down to make his point.  _ “There.” _

Sam laughs but not in a hurtful or teasing way which Steve loves him for, and instead props himself up on his elbows, asking, “Okay, Grant, baby, you want me to eat you out or finger you a little while?” 

Steve winces as if the inquiry causes him genuine pain, “Can I be greedy and say both? I really like it when you do both.”

“Yeah, the number of times you seem to come during both kind of clued me in on that.” 

A retort is just on the tip of his tongue but the words are hopelessly scrambled when a slick finger is eased into him. Steve arches his back and curses through his teeth, his fingers fisting the sheets in the immediate pleasure. 

He’s always been sensitive down there, certainly more than the average male even before the serum, but after? It’s like his nerves were amped up to twenty. In a way it balances out his near non-existent refractory period, it’s pretty much guaranteed he’ll come as soon as Sam pushes in. Sam thinks it’s cute in some bizarre way. 

Steve lets out a soft, high-pitched gasp and a near drunken smile spreads across his face. He spreads his legs wider and plants his heels as Sam switches between gently fingering him open and kissing his “pink little hole.” Words that make him blush and place a cautious hand around the base of his dick — he doesn’t want it over, not this early. But relatively soon all pretenses of Steve’s self control are gone and he can’t seem to breathe without a keen or a moan or a whimper. His hips buck up treacherously and his cock can’t help making a mess on his stomach. 

“Ah, God, Sam.” Steve gasps, and he curls forward as Sam’s fingers continue to assault his prostate in the best possible way. He squeezes his eyes shut and lets the pleasure spill from the bottom of his stomach and outward, his cock jumping and coming in several spurts.

“And that, is number one. Feel good?”

“Y-yeah, feels great, baby. Keep going, please.” 

Sam makes a move to pry his cheeks apart and Steve pulls his legs up to his chest so he can, immediately rewarded with air hitting the sensitive ring of muscle. He flexes and feels a throb of something akin to pride at Sam’s resounding groan. Then his stomach drops at the hot and dripping tongue that slithers into him. Steve keens, Sam taking deep and balanced licks into him that have stars bursting behind his eyes. Despite knowing he wouldn’t dare let up his hand sneaks down to hold his head regardless, pushing him further greedily, silently asking for him to give everything. And he does. 

Steve shudders, feeling dirty and strikingly promiscuous when spit dribbles down his crack and backside. 

“Oh,  _ God _ , Sam.” His name leaves his lips like a prayer and Steve pushes hips up even further, wanting it all and more. He grits his teeth and moves his hand to clamp tightly around the base of his cock, the pleasure coming to a painful head. Seconds later Sam stops and Steve recognizes the change in his eyes meaning nothing but business. 

He kneels between his thighs, cock standing proud and taunt against his abdomen and looking almost agonizing. Steve wordlessly rolls onto his front and pulls his legs snugly against his chest, presenting himself fully, an act Sam never seems to tire of. 

“I’m ready for you, Sam.” His eyes flutter close and the word ‘please’ leaves him on a hollow breath.

A caring touch smooth up the expanse of his back, following the curve of his spine before fingers are rooted in the hair at his nape. Sam presses a feather light kiss there and whispers, “I appreciate the gesture, lovely, but I wanna make love to you tonight. That includes seeing your face.”

Steve smiles dopily and feels somewhat floored at just how much he loves the man above him. He happily complies, drawing his lover into a kiss he knows can’t compare to everything he feels for him. 

He pulls back so their just a breath’s width apart. “Then come on, baby. Love me.”

The bestial gleam that glints in Sam’s eyes would be intimidating to most, but it just makes him laugh. They crash together, lips and tongue and affection they never thought they would find. And when they join, when Sam pushes into him in one smooth stroke, Steve gasps beautifully, his hands desperately seeking, clinging to him as nothing more than a man.

Sam kisses his neck and rolls his hips forward, drawing a long moan from Steve’s throat. He locks his ankles at the small of Sam’s back and lets himself be pushed up the bed with each thrust. And even though Steve knows Sam hasn’t made any real effort — not that it requires any — to find his prostate, the sheer pleasure of being filled and stretch has his cock jerking, his finish spilling hot over his abdomen. 

A warm and loving laugh blows against his ear and if it was anyone else Steve would be embarrassed, but he instead just chuckles along with him, holds him so there’s no space between. The hero revels in the grunts that fall against his ear, his own moans rising to meet them accordingly. 

“I love you, Sam. So much.”

“Love you too, baby. Love making you feel good. Love the sounds you make just for me. Think you can cry for me? Just a little yelp, that’s all I’m asking.”

“Well that depends,” He laughs, “What are you going to do to me?”

In answer Sam slips his hand between them and gives his right nipple a hard tweak. Steve rockets forward into the touch and cries out embarrassingly loud, his chest throbbing from the teasing pinch. 

“Okay, that was low. The only thing more sensitive than-”

“Your ass is your chest, yeah, I know. I love it.” Sam says, kissing him cutely on the nose before moving to take one between his lips. 

Heavy, brisk moans fill their bedroom as Sam rolls the fleshy nub between his teeth and sucks punishingly hard. His hands moving so one teases his other nipple and one slowly pulls on Steve’s painfully aroused cock. 

Steve’s hips stutter into the contact and back onto Sam’s dick, happily riding both planes of ecstasy. Somewhere in the back of his mind he takes note of the somewhat erratic way their rhythm has changed and cracks his eyes open.

“Are,” He swallows to actually get some of his voice back, “Are you close, Sam? I want you to.” He says excitedly, “Inside.”

“You always want me to.” Sam pants, his expression showing no qualms about the demand. He falls forward to kiss him hard and time slows when he pauses to adjusts his hips. And then the moment of rest is gone, Sam plowing into him with deep strokes that pierce his prostate mercilessly. Steve cries out before Sam gives him a nod, silently giving him permission to carefully bite into his shoulder, holding back his full strength. His eyes close and as Steve tries to desperately hold on for Sam his cries tumble and roll into barely contained whimpers. 

“Okay, baby, okay. I’m gonna let you come real soon, alright?”

“Mm-hm.” Steve breathes, his lip trembling between his teeth. “It hurts.”  
“We can st-”

“No!” Steve mentally reprimands himself, “It’s a good hurt and I want you to finish. Come on, your almost there. Come in me.” 

Sam’s pupils dilate and Steve digs his heels into his lower back, tightens his muscles to his intake of breath. 

“Fill me up, Sam.” He leans up to press his lips to his ear and whispers the end-all.  _ “Breed me.” _

Steve’s head flies back with the force of his final thrust, a spark of pleasure growing into a raging fire that licks him all over. Sam’s finish seeps into him, hot and burning, his own come cooling on his stomach. 

The two share one more final, lazy kiss before Sam rolls to the side, both of them panting and sated. 

Steve kind of dozes in and out for a few minutes, lastly coming to with a clean chest and Sam tugging him backward in their bed — away from the wet spot — and into his warm embrace. 

“Goodnight.”

“Thank you, Sam.” He whispers, voice somber.

“I’m too tired to lecture you on what you mean to me, Steve, so I’m just going to  _ assume _ you meant ‘love.’”

Steve laughs. He assumed correct. 

  
  


.FIN.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever dip into the Marvel fandom, first Sam/Steve pairing. I've kind of fell in love with this ship and now I can't get off it. This is also the longest pwp I've ever written and any feedback/thoughts is REALLY appreciated. Thanks for reading!


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